Tsvangirai finally in power - on paper at least

Morgan Tsvangirai could not let the significance of the date go unmentioned to the thousands of supporters who had waited 10 years for something like this moment.

The day of his inauguration as Zimbabwe's new prime minister was, he noted, February 11 - the date Nelson Mandela walked free from prison 19 years ago. But, he cautioned, there followed another four years of political struggle before South Africa's racist regime was buried by free elections.

The crowd got the message. Tsvangirai's swearing in yesterday by the man he has been trying to force from power for the past decade, President Robert Mugabe, was a beginning not an end.

Just in case Tsvangirai had any doubts, the inauguration itself provided a reminder that life in political cohabitation with Mugabe will be no fun.

A few hours earlier, the secret police had gone looking for one of Tsvangirai's newly appointed ministers, Roy Bennett - a white former MP who once served eight months in jail for wrestling the minister of justice on to the floor of parliament. The police didn't find Bennett but it was a warning that Zimbabwe's age of terror is not yet over.

As Tsvangirai waited to be called forward to accept the oath of office, the old government's propaganda outlets kept spewing forth the views that Zimbabweans have come to regard as emanating from some parallel universe.

The state radio reminded its listeners that the eradication of the country's economy and 10 sextillion per cent inflation rate was nothing to do with Zanu-PF's plunder and incompetence but all the fault of Gordon Brown. Mugabe was called comrade. Tsvangirai was just plain mister. Not one of us.

After the swearing in, a young woman read an excruciating poem she had written called Rise and Shine Zimbabwe, which included such original lines as "United we stand, divided we fall". It quickly became clear that united meant behind Mugabe. And then, as Tsvangirai prepared to deliver the agreed five-minute address to the nation as its new PM, the master of ceremonies announced lunch was served and Zimbabwe TV cut away.

Tsvangirai's moment came at a later rally, where he delivered an elongated version of the speech he didn't make on television. It's not hard to see why the old regime didn't want people to hear it.

"For too long, our people's hopes for a bright and prosperous future have been betrayed. Instead of hope, their days have been filled with starvation, disease and fear. A culture of entitlement and impunity has brought our nation to the brink of a dark abyss," he said. "This must end today."

There was general agreement from the crowd that it would be a good idea if it did end today, although not a lot of confidence that it would.

The loudest cheer came when he promised to pay civil servants, teachers, health workers and soldiers in US dollars or South African rand until the economy works again. The crowd went wild. For all that, there was little of the electricity that shot through Zimbabwe in the days after the election last March when Mugabe was defeated and his regime wobbled, uncertain how to hold on. It found a way: violence and terror.

After the rally, some of Tsvangirai's supporters wondered aloud if Mugabe was really done for or if he might not outsmart their new prime minister.

"We will not believe Mugabe is gone until he's in a coffin," said Ernest Manyere. "He has tried to kill our side. Now maybe he is trying to trick our side. Tsvangirai must be very careful."

But there are good reasons to think that Mugabe's power will diminish.

That he agreed to have Tsvangirai as PM at all is evidence of his desperation. But with no solutions to the economy, Mugabe no longer so much governs as obstructs. Every attempt to reverse the decline has only worsened it.

So far as Mugabe is concerned, these are Tsvangirai's problems now. The new prime minister will need all the help he can get, but he is only too aware that he's not going to get it from the man who swore him in yesterday.